|Reviews for Vortex|
| Zeki Young chapter 1 . 10/16/2013
Powerful fic, executed with a lot of care. Great!
| Guest chapter 1 . 12/16/2012
Oh, your words are so beautiful. They break my heart and put it back together again.
| SparkleMouse chapter 1 . 7/4/2012
It's true, he doesn't sleep because there's a shooter out there terrorizing New York City, but he spends more than half the night in the darkness of his office, tracing spiderweb-thin threads along the edges of Kate's board instead of sifting through obscure paintings to unearth the sniper's trajectory. - I already love the image and wording on this.
He thinks he understands the swirls and eddies of her grief until he sees her curled in a heap in the hallway, badge and gun and jacket puddled on the floor near her thigh, breath broken and jagged. Then, he realizes he never really understood at all. His heart thumps its own jackrabbit beat of panic when he sees the bandage around her right wrist (he'd caught the edge of the gauze with his gaze earlier, but he'd been distracted by the quickness of her breath, the too-tight curl of her shoulders), a jagged line of blood leached through, and his first image is her with glassy eyes and a bottle and a dully glinting knife, hunched on the floor of her bathroom, normally an impossibility, utterly inconceivable, but now, now the hazy concept of that knife will haunt him.- God, Jessie, the writing is just gorgeous.
After, when he tugs at her to come home with him and she says no he thinks even he can understand, how hard it must be to live with the forceful edge of this much hurt always battering against her, how little space it must leave for any other kind of real feeling. - This. Oh god. It's brilliant.
"Esposito brought me here," she says, slim fingers pale and steady around the barrel of the gun. He feels words catch and stick in his constricted throat, and after a minute when he can't seem to stop convulsively swallowing, she keeps talking. "I wanted to share it with you." - I love how much a part of her he is. Or she wants him to be.
When he wakes that night with a start, the hazy wisps of the dream still curl softly around him in the dark: the sharp, clear flash of light off the glass of a scope, the refraction of that same light through her tears, the monotone wail of the heart monitor that, this time, doesn't jolt back to a thready rhythm. - So heartbreaking.
He's been parked outside her apartment for the past five nights. He's never been an alcoholic, but he thinks he knows how they might feel, now, the crushing, chest-hollowing panic and need. - Have I mentioned you're brilliant? Because shit. You are.
I love the conversation about her therapist. The ease of it, but it's not. It's basic and silent and too much and not enough and it's just fantastic.
"Come in," she murmurs, her voice matching the muted shadows, the dark glow of the living room. - I love that she doesn't ask what he's doing there. She knows he's out there, doesn't she?
The room fills with a low buzz, the gurgle of heating water, then the whirr of grinding beans, before she speaks. "I know. This is, what, the tenth night?" - I knew she would know but reading it I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS!
She tilts her body another degree away from him, so he can just catch the sharp, shadowed edge of her cheekbones, a fraction of the tense line of her jaw. "I had a dream. I woke up feeling so alone. I thought you might feel alone, too. I didn't want that." -OH MY GODDDDD.
"This shouldn't be your life." She rocks back as she says it, tugs her arm out of his grasp, and it rushes at him, all at once, the extent she's trying to pull away.
"You think you can change that now?" he growls, edging into her, the fear of her taking another step back making him panicked, making his head spin in the muted shadows of her kitchen. - I don't have words anymore. But yeah.
He reaches over, spreads his right hand over the left side of her sternum, his thumb covering the bullet's entrance, his index finger brushing along the line from Josh's scalpel. - Show stole this from you too?
And the end. Jesus. Why are you so good? Stop it, okay? (Don't. You're awesome.)
| actuallyido chapter 1 . 6/30/2012
I've never read this, because I remember cautiously avoiding any story that was kill-shot based, it was too depressing. I want to kick myself for missing this, though. Such a gorgeous story. And the way you've ended it kills me.
| duckys-dream chapter 1 . 6/16/2012
Like all the rest of your work - this is brilliant.
But in a totally different way.
Not any less or more brilliant, just different.
It's poignant, it's painful, it's raw and it is absolutely beautiful.
You have a poets soul.
An artists perception.
If I could spend five minutes looking at the world the way you see it I think my proclivity would change forever.
I'm absolutely floored by this & I honestly don't know if it's good or bad.
No, that's BS, of course it's good. Of course.
Every sentiment, every emotion and every scene down to practically each individual heartbeat is expressed so aptly that it's left me with a dry mouth and I have that slippery sick feeling at the back of my throat & in the pit of my stomach.
Not because it's bad. Definitely not because it's bad.
But because it's just so damn good.
So good this review has taken almost an hour to write and sorry if I'm not making any sense but I'm pretty sure I still have no higher brain function.
Just images, so vivid they're practically memories, of the events I've just witnessed in your words.
| TrapperII chapter 1 . 4/18/2012
Intense. I like the acknowledgement that the trauma is Castle's too.
| CastleLover49 chapter 1 . 3/15/2012
It's the last thing he wants to give, the taste of her mouth still on his tongue, the salt of her tears still faint on his lips, the bare skin of her chest hot underneath his hand. It's the only thing he can give that makes any sense at all. He sucks in a final gulp of air, holds it in his lungs like a prayer, feels the razor-sharp words welling up from his chest.
"It's about your mother."
Oh good gracious! Are you tying to kill us? I can't even begin to tell you every line that I loved, because honestly, I would just be copy/pasting the entire story. But this line, wow, this one made my heart stop. This is most definately one of my most favorite fics. Ever. It was just beautiful and sad and tragic and tender and a whole slew of other really wonderful things. I couldn't stop reading. :)
So, ah, what are the chances of a follow up chapter? Or multiple follow up chapters? Pretty pretty please?
| Ariel119 chapter 1 . 3/2/2012
Dark, but lovely!
| leuska chapter 1 . 2/22/2012
so many ppl seem to grasp that beckett was not the only one suffering with the aftermath of the shooting.
so thank you for putting that into words.
| ColieMacKenzie chapter 1 . 1/18/2012
Wow! I don't think I have any good words to express how absolutely stunning this story is! The way you spun your words is gripping, so angsty and painful and yet there was such beauty there, in the way their love and need is expressed within the context of their pain. I ached with them, for them, with every paragraph. Amazing!
| Sandiane Carter chapter 1 . 12/24/2011
I took some time to review this because I needed my brain to be coherent enough to form sentences and such. Which, obviously, it wasn't when I had just finished reading it.
This is brilliant - not just being able to read you again, but this whole story. So heartbreaking and beautiful.
And oh, thank you, thank you for giving us that scene between them after she's fled the scene and gotten rid of her jacket, gun and badge... I was dying for this in the episode and it never happened. So thanks. This soothed my heart. And jeez, such gorgeous lines too -
"He thinks he understands the swirls and eddies of her grief until he sees her curled in a heap in the hallway, badge and gun and jacket puddled on the floor near her thigh, breath broken and jagged."
"He flails for words; he's rarely out of them, and though throughout the years they've been laced together by laden looks and finger-light touches, he's used to the bulk of their substance in dialogue."
And oh my god, this just about KILLED me: "After, when he tugs at her to come home with him and she says no he thinks even he can understand, how hard it must be to live with the forceful edge of this much hurt always battering against her, how little space it must leave for any other kind of real feeling."
Oh, so painful and yet so true. Broke my heart.
And oh, oh Castle - that bit when she shows him the gun, ah, my heart ached for him. "He won't be fine, though, with the cold mass of the rifle so near him, a slope of spring-green grass, the unwavering, flat line of a heart monitor starting to catch at the edges of his vision."
Jeez. Making me tear up again.
I love that you have him park outside her apartment and watch her at night. Somehow, I can picture him exactly like this, unable to resist that urge, but unwilling to let her know. Oh, and all these words, these beautiful words. It's not fair to quote one line out of all these - they're all amazing.
"Yeah," she says, "it's good." He can see the slender column of her throat working, a wealth of words snagged there."
Such splendid imagery.
And that scene between them in the kitchen is absolutely stunning. I think I was holding my breath the whole time. Oh my, so heart-wrenching and gorgeous.
"I had a dream. I woke up feeling so alone. I thought you might feel alone, too. I didn't want that." That - the fact that she doesn't want him to feel alone - that makes me so happy.
And THIS - "It hasn't worked badly, necessarily – he can navigate the contours of a brilliant smile that he didn't even know existed the first year they met – but it occurs to him that it really hasn't worked out that well, not when she's curled over and wracked with tears in the middle of her kitchen, not when he's spent the last dozen nights waiting wedged uncomfortably beneath his steering wheel for the chance to catch the shadow of her shadow."
Thank you for this, for saying this. I needed to read it.
"She angles her face to him, all clenched jaw and streaked tears and flashing eyes, and he can't help but tilt forward, brush his mouth over hers softly." I love this - "all clenched jaw and streaked tears and flashing eyes" - that feels so much like Beckett.
And this bit, this bit I have to paste in here, because it's just so... - "She's not wearing a bra – of course, idiot, he tells himself, she'd been in bed – and his eyes can't help but trip over the heavy arcs of her breasts, so at odds with the sharp jut of her clavicles, the severe outline of her ribs that speaks to every missed meal, every tense and sleepless night. Her scars shine slightly even in the dim light, glistening pinks that don't tell the story; there's no flatline beneath the divot in her chest, no well of blood beneath the neat line under her breast."
I think that might be the most beautiful description of Kate I've ever read. Just...so much depth to it, so much soul. You're seriously amazing.
"Her sternum presses up and into his palm with every breath, the bone jutting sharp into the heel of his hand, and nothing that he can give her will ever be enough."
Ah, this pleases the beast hungry for words that sits somewhere in my chest. Makes it really, really happy. And those last lines, about what he's found being the only thing he can give her that will make sense.
This is not marked complete, so, hum, more? Soon? Pretty please? :)
| Oliver Haley chapter 1 . 12/23/2011
What a well written piece you have shared with us! This is SO wonderfully done that I am hoping you have other things to entertain us with - perhaps a novel or two? At any rate, feel free to add to our delight at any time. Please.
| I'm Widget chapter 1 . 12/22/2011
Wow. This is so painful, so poignant and well written. Great one shot!
| Kamyy chapter 1 . 12/22/2011
awesome, very emotional,you can feel the pain when you read it ... i like the end
| VioletHills chapter 1 . 12/22/2011
Too lazy to log in but I had to leave a review for this wonderful piece of writing. I don't know how you managed it (well, actually, I do 'cause you're uber-talented) but you've strung together the comfort (filling in that missing scene with Kate breaking down in the hallway) without making it cliché, the passion (their kiss and subsequent actions) without seeming trite and the pain and hurt without going over-the-top and making me want to run for the hills from being hit in the head with a lack of subtlety.
Really, this was just beautiful. If you decide to continue or not, this stands on its own as a complete piece of writing.